


All I Need

by winterdesu



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supermarket, M/M, Mild Language, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, slight angst, supermarket au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 12:28:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3728956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterdesu/pseuds/winterdesu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>also known as the supermarket AU no one asked for.</p>
<p>One fateful evening at nine-thirty, Midorima Shintarou rushed up to the counter Kise Ryouta worked at in the local supermarket. Then things start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Need

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charkbites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charkbites/gifts).



> This is my first contribution to the KnB fandom! I'm well aware that Midorima and Kise don't actually get along well in canon, but ahh well, who cares, there's screenshots of them together and there are other people who ship it. Please enjoy and I am always willing to hear from you! Thank you!

            Kise processed the final item in the young woman’s trolley and rang up the total bill. “That would be two thousand yen,” he said cheerfully, flashing her a quick smile that he knew would make this kind of customers keep coming back.

            The woman blushed rather cutely (yep, that cheek colour definitely matched her fluffy pink cardigan) and timidly pushed the money into his hands, stuttering, after a quick glance at his nametag as if to double-check, a “Thank you, Kise-kun”, followed by a flustered introduction. Kise learned that her name was Haruna and that she found his eyelashes very pretty (they both laughed a little at that).

            He packed Haruna’s purchases into one of the standard brown paper bags and waved goodbye as she stepped out of the supermarket into the early evening, hugging her purchases to her chest.

            “You gigantic flirt,” Kagami commented from the cash register on his left. He had just finished serving a customer of his own (a regular – Mrs Tachibana, who was always gracious and polite towards all of them and they always smiled a little brighter when they served her).

            “Aww Kagamicchi, you’re so sweet.” Kise leaned as far over his counter as he could to make dramatic kissy faces at Kagami. “I’m absolutely overwhelmed!”

            “… that wasn’t a compliment.” Kagami frowned at him. His expression was so serious Kise wanted to take a photo and print it out and laugh at it forever.

            “Ahh well, who cares,” Kise grinned, plopping back onto the little circular wheelie chair and spinning it a bit. “Maaaan, business is sure running slow today.”

            “I guess it is,” Kagami agreed a little grudgingly. He tried – and failed – to hold back a yawn. Kise giggled at him as Kagami tried (and failed for the umpteenth time) to glare him into submission.

            The evening dragged by at snail’s pace. Nothing interesting happened. A middle-aged man came by to grab cigarettes and beer. A mother and her toddler picked up milk formula. Two giggly schoolgirls checked out a mountain of potato chips and blushed at Kise. Nothing out of the ordinary.

            Then some time around nine-thirty, a very tall green-haired man in a long beige trench coat rushed up, throwing a couple boxes of tampons onto Kise’s counter.

            _Eeeeeeh._

            Kise looked up to meet the man’s very much embarrassed face and very much gorgeous dark green eyes behind thick-rimmed black glasses. _Wow_ , his lower lashes were really long. And kind of pretty too.

            Unable to resist the urge, Kise teased the man, just a little. “For your girlfriend, Mr Handsome?”

            Handsome Glasses’ face flushed a bright red, colour clashing fascinatingly horribly with his green hair. “For my younger sister,” he grunted. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

            Kise laughed and made note of the couple of facts. “Just kidding. That’s very sweet of you.”

            “Shut up,” Handsome Glasses growled. “I only bought them because she begged me, it’s-it’s not like I care a lot or anything.”

            Kise did not find him threatening the slightest. _And how very tsundere of him. Cute, damn._ “Sure, whatever helps you sleep,” he quipped, giving him a playful grin and winking for good measure.

            Handsome Glasses blushed darker and pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, harrumphing and turning away from him as if to hide his face.

            _Bingo._

            Holding back another bout of amused chuckles, Kise busied himself with packing the boxes of tampons into a paper bag while Handsome Glasses rummaged for his wallet to pay, face still adorably scarlet.

            Handsome Glasses paid, snatched the paper bag from atop the counter and left in a rush, long beige trench coat flapping dramatically behind him.

            _Aww,_ Kise thought, settling back onto his wheelie stool and stretching his arms. _I didn’t even get to ask for his name._

***

            The next time Handsome Glasses came by was four days later – a Saturday evening.

            This time, however, he came at around six forty-five, just an hour after Kise’s shift has started. Kise spied a certain tall, green-haired man lingering at the aisles near the cashier counters where the drinks were, plastic basket in one hand and lugging a small suitcase in another.

            He waited with baited breath as all the other cashiers were occupied by other customers – Kagami checking out a middle-aged woman’s instant noodles, Himuro chatting up a two-meter tall purple-haired man (was he a titan?!) at his counter on Kagami’s left. Furihata, who had recently changed his working time with the manager, now worked at Kise’s right side. In fact, he was helping an old lady confirm the numbers on her receipt.

            Kise watched eagerly (why was he being so eager though?!) as Handsome Glasses came up the counters, frowning when he saw that all the other cashiers were occupied.

            “This way, if you would please,” Kise called out, unable to stand it anymore. He waved a little at Handsome Glasses to signal him over. “This counter is unoccupied at the moment.”

            Handsome Glasses glanced over and coloured bright scarlet when he saw him. _He was that hung up over the Tampon Incident, huh._ He looked around again as if to make sure that Kise was the only option, before sighing somewhat wearily and pushing his glasses up that ridiculously attractive Grecian nose of his and making his way over to Kise’s counter, lifting the plastic basket and placing it onto the countertop.

            Kise started to reach into the basket before he realized its contents.

            That had to be at least forty cans of red bean soup in there.

            “Are you planning to _drown_ yourself?”

            Handsome Glasses breathed out heavily through his nose. “I just happen to like it a lot.”

            Kise knew that there was a discount going on, but was it really necessary to stock up like that? For a moment there he feared for Handsome Glasses’ health. “If you’re sure,” he said, still a little skeptical.

            He peeked up at Handsome Glasses’ face.

            It was completely straight.

            _This guy is actually serious about this._

            Kise ran one can of red bean soup through the scanner and started counting the number of cans in the basket. Somewhere at the back of his mind, Kise marveled at the capacity of those plastic baskets. _Who knew they can actually carry so many cans?_ Another part of his brain supplied the fact that Handsome Glasses had to be pretty strong to manage to carry that without breaking a sweat.

            _Hot, damn._

            “There are forty-two cans,” Handsome Glasses supplied coolly, adjusting his glasses again.

            Kise smiled at him. “Hey, thanks.” But he continued counting anyway. “I need to do this though, standard procedures and everything.” _Plus this meant a chance for him to lengthen the time they spent together._

            Handsome Glasses nodded curtly and stood silently while Kise counted off the cans. He could feel the other man’s gaze on him as he muttered the numbers under his breath, making his way down the rows of cans in the basket.

            “… forty-one, forty-two. That’s forty-two cans all right,” Kise said, straightening and punching the information into the cash register. “Careful, you might give yourself diabetes.”

            “Shut up,” muttered Handsome Glasses, toying with something in his hands. Kise snuck a peek to see a palm-sized frog statue clutched in between long, tapered fingers. And it happened that his left fingers were all bandaged up.

            As if he couldn’t get any weirder.

            “Say, what’s that cute thing?” Kise asked as he waited for the receipt to print.

            “This is Kerosu-” Handsome Glasses stopped mid-sentence abruptly. “This is my lucky item for the day.”

            “Eeeh, like Oha Asa or something? What’s your sign?” Kise asked, tearing the receipt from the mini-printer. He was a part time model after all, there was no way he would not know about this. “That’s four thousand and eighty yen, by the way.”

            “Cancer.”

            “Ahh, is that so? I’m a-”

            “Gemini,” Handsome Glasses finished his sentence as he handed over a wad of bills to Kise.

            “Ehh?! How did you know?” Kise cried out.

            “Talkative, enthusiastic, cheerful. Traits of Gemini,” Handsome Glasses rattled off smoothly. “Besides, my sister once mentioned that the aspiring teenage model Kise Ryouta is a Gemini, is he not?” Handsome Glasses shot him a knowing stare.

            “Ahhh, I got found out,” Kise laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “Yes, I’m a Gemini.” _Huh, I thought working in this part of the town would attract less attention._

            “Of course,” Handsome Glasses said with a rather smug glint in his eyes. “Fate is never wrong.”

            _Oookay._ “I’ll get you one of the bigger bags, Mr Handsome,” Kise said, bending to retrieve one of the bigger paper bags to put in all the cans of red bean soup.

            “There is no need,” Handsome Glasses interrupted. He heaved the suitcase up to the counter and unzipped it.

            There were already about twenty other cans of red bean soup inside.

            “It’s fine to pack them in here as well,” Handsome Glasses said.

            Kise managed to only gape and stare for about two seconds before asking him where had he managed to get so much already.

            “I bought these at the supermarket near my university, but this is all they had,” Handsome Glasses explained, sounding a little exasperated, as though it was normal for someone to buy so much red bean soup at once.

            In the end, they packed the cans of red bean soup into Handsome Glasses’ suitcase together, taking time to make sure all of them fit into the cavity. Handsome Glasses was lucky that business was not too busy that evening – the few other customers they had that evening all headed over to the other counters to pay while they packed the cans of red bean soup.

            Their hands brushed together a few times, but neither of them said anything.

            Handsome Glasses seemed a little flustered and embarrassed, but (obviously!) nothing beyond natural awkwardness of physical contact with a complete stranger.

            Kise had to force himself to stay calm and do his job. Besides, he had only met Handsome Glasses twice! He knew next to nothing about him (except the fact he was had a little sister, was in university, was very serious yet believed in Oha Asa and Fate and liked red bean soup a little too much).

            When Handsome Glasses got ready to leave, Kise called after him.

            “I don’t know your name!”

            Handsome Glasses paused on his way to the exit, frog statue in hand and holding on to his precious luggage filled with red bean soup. He turned around, green hair falling into gorgeous eyes and the corners of his lips quirked up into the faintest smile.

            “It’s Midorima. Midorima Shintarou.”

***

            Two evenings later Midorima Shintarou came up to Kise’s counter with a bottle of shampoo.

            “Is this any good?” Kise asked the man with a smile as he ran the barcode and set about counting the change. He rarely saw people buying this brand, after all.

            “Its cleaning is effective and is of suitable scent,” Midorima said loftily. Kise noted that he was holding on to a bright pink plastic hairbrush that day. “Also,” Midorima continued, seemingly determinedly not looking at Kise. “You should acquire yourself a small FengShui statue. Gemini ranks third last today.”

            “I can’t believe it!” Kise gushed as he handed Midorima his receipt and change. “You remembered! You checked Gemini’s ranking for me, didn’t you?”

            “Th-there’s no way I would especially check your ranking.”

            Kise certainly did not miss the little stutter, but he decided to play along. “Ahh, and here I thought we were friends, Midorima,” he pouted and batted his eyelashes for good measure.

            “We’re not friends, you idiot! We barely know each other!” Midorima protested, taking the money and shoving it into his wallet. _Ooooohhh the receipt is getting all crinkled up._

            “To be honest,” Kise started, leaning a little closer to Midorima and giving him one of his flirtier smiles. “I really want to know you better.”

            The tips of Midorima’s ears turned a delicate pink and the six foot five bespectacled young man stumbled backwards, obviously flustered. “I will think about it,” he said solemnly, and Kise watched, fascinated, as the pink darkened to scarlet.

            Midorima left in a flurry of beige trench coat and green hair.

            Kise wished that he remembered to slip him his phone number.

***

            Almost an entire week later, Kise ran into Midorima after a photo shoot. It was a late night, and Kise had just hopped onto the bus at the station near the studio where his job was at, glad to have secured the last unoccupied window seat. He was ready to plug in his earphones and settle down for the lengthy bus ride him, when a figure rushed onboard and up the upper deck just before the bus pulled away from the station.

            _Ehhh, was that Midorima?!_ Kise peered up from his seat further back and watched as Midorima eyed the other passengers disdainfully.

            Their eyes met and Kise could not stop the smile from spreading across his face. He gave Midorima the most indiscreet “come hither” gesture possible and winked.

            Midorima turned pink and looked around once more, as if to make sure there were no other welcoming seats to settle into before walking down the aisle and sitting down gingerly next to Kise.

            “Hi.”

            “Kise,” Midorima muttered in reply.

            “Didn’t think you would actually sit next to me,” Kise grinned, putting away his iPod for now. Music could wait, he had someone to properly befriend.

            “I would rather sit with someone of acquaintance and closer age than middle-aged strangers,” Midorima replied coolly.

            “I suppose so,” Kise said cheerfully. “It _is_ quite late though, coming home from a party or something?”

            Midorima looked scandalized at the idea of partying. “No, I just left my parents’ house. I presume you are commuting home from a photo shoot?”

            “Ah, yes I was. So look forward to some awesome photos in the coming issue of Zunon Boy magazine!”

            “Idiot, as if I would bother looking at your photos.”

            “Midorimacchi is so harsh…!”

            There was a very interesting expression on Midorima’s face. “… what was that?”

            “Uh, I called you harsh…?”

            “No. That… _name_.”

            “Midorimacchi?”

            Midorima nodded stiffly, avoiding eye contact.

            “Ahh, it’s just how I call people I acknowledge. So you’ll have to get used to it, Midorimacchi!” Kise said lightly.

            There was a pregnant silence.

            “You are a strange person,” Midorima said finally.

            “Well, look who’s talking,” Kise laughed, nudging Midorima gently. “But it’s interesting-strange, not creepy-strange. You get me?”

            Midorima relaxed next to him and they fell into a comfortable conversation –Midorima was certainly not the most social person, but he actually made intelligent comments when he was not trying to be hostile and Kise found him surprisingly intriguing to talk to.

            Over the next hour, Kise found out that Midorima played the piano, used to play basketball like he did, and was now studying in university to become a doctor.

            “I want to work with sports injuries,” Midorima said as the bus rumbled down the streets. “Saving athletes seem like something Fate would approve of.”

            “Oh, of course it would.”

            “Allow me to ask you one question.”

            “Yes?”  
            “If you’re already modeling and making money, why are you working in the supermarket?”

            Kise shrugged. “Mostly because it’s fun. And I’m still working my way to the top, you see, so I don’t have shoots all the time. I work a bit to pass the time and make friends and a little extra money.” Kise leaned a little closer to Midorima. “If I wasn’t working at the cashier, I wouldn’t have met you. And to be honest? It would have been a shame.” He took extra care not to mention anything about keeping himself busy and taking his mind off _that asshole_.

            “Has anyone told you that you are a gigantic, shameless flirt,” Midorima said in deadpan. _And he sounded so much like Kagamicchi too, oh god._

            Kise actually cracked up so bad he vibrated with the effort of keeping silent on public transport.

            Midorima rolled his eyes exasperatingly, but Kise swore that he smiled too. Just a little bit, but that was more than enough.

            He asked him for his phone number when he calmed down, the atmosphere between them lighter and relaxed.

            Midorima gave it over, albeit a little grudgingly, with a growly warning of “Do not send any spam. I will block you otherwise.” But his face was a little pink and there was no real bite in his warning.

            _One step closer._

***

**To: Midorimacchi**

**From: Kise Ryouta**

**Subject: Look!**

**At a photo shoot now! I love the setup! It’s soooo pretty; and all the green reminds me of you \ (** **￣** **∇** **￣) /**

**Attached: lookhowawesome.jpg**

            “What’s with that look on your face, Ki-chan?” Momoi asked as she watched the make-up team make careful touch-ups to his powdered face, shooting him a small sly smile.

            “It’s a se-cret!” Kise returned with a smile with equal amounts of slyness. It had been almost a month as well as the first photo shoot he had since the bus ride home with Midorima. Midorima went to the supermarket sometimes but always went to queue up for Kise’s counter no matter how long the line (well, as long as the line could get at that time), and with each passing time he paused a little longer to talk to him.

            Kise found the time spent with Midorima each time, however brief, was highly enjoyable. They also texted often. Midorima’s answers were always short, but they told Kise a little more about him.

            Plus Midorima was the cutest princess-y tsundere he had ever seen, damn.

            _But they were just so_ different _._

            He glanced over to the photographers and the table laden with props for his photo shoot.

**To: Midorimacchi**

**From: Kise Ryouta**

**Subject: And this too!!**

**They even got this frog plushie on the prop table! I hope I get to use it in the shoot! It’s so cute wwwwww**

**Attached: froggy.jpg**

Kise sent that off as well and held as still as he could for the make-up team. Brush hairs swept across his face one last time, and then came the familiar hissing sound of the hair spray can being tested behind him.

            Next to him, Momoi was saying something but Kise barely heard her, distracted by the sudden buzz of his phone. _Midorima replied!_

**To: Kise**

**From: Midorima**

**Subject: (empty)**

**Gemini’s lucky item today is a black hairpin. You are ranking sixth today, so do not say I did not warn you if something bad happens.**

            Kise’s chest tightened the _slightest_ , _no_ , he told himself firmly, _no, I am_ not _going to be over-exited just because Midorima happened to remember to check Oha Asa for his stupid ranking._

He nodded automatically at Momoi, who had been asking if he was free after the photo shoot to grab dinner together.

            _Don’t rush things, don’t rush things. Remember what happened the last time you did._

            Yet his heart still pounded and he yearned for the chance to talk to Midorima again like an overeager puppy that was looking for a master.

***

            The shoot went without a hitch. If anything, Momoi told him, it was that she had not seen him smile so genuinely brightly in a very, very long time.

            _She meant since_ that _time._

They looked over the photographs, very much satisfied about the way they turned out. This shoot had to be one of the very best he had.

            “It’s the way you’re smiling,” Momoi said, pointing at the computer screen displaying one of the photos taken with the plush frog. _A-ahhh._

            “I suppose,” Kise replied lightly. He thanked everyone in the production, and after a word with the editor of the magazine, he was free to go.

“So, Ki-chan, what happened to make you so happy?” Momoi started to ask over their pork ramen and light beers, seated across him in the little restaurant she was so fond of.

            “I…” Kise started, draining his first can of beer. Fuck it. “I’m too sober to talk about this.”

            Momoi raised an eyebrow at him. “Ki-chan…?”

            Kise smiled and ordered the sake.

***

            “He has a strange accent and he likes Oha Asa!” Kise pointed at the black hairpin stylishly holding back part of his bangs. “I put this on because of him!”

            Momoi nodded sympathetically.

            “And he’s so pretty! I don’t know how can someone be so pretty!” Kise exclaimed. “Especially his eyelashes. The lower ones. They’re so pretty.” He banged a fist on the table maybe a little too hard. The empty ramen bowls and sake bottle rattled a little against the wood.

            “You always go for the pretty ones,” Momoi said, idly taking a sip out of her own cup.

            How many cups had they had already? Six? Seven? Kise was not exactly keeping track.

            “I know I do!” Kise whined. “That’s the mistake. Ahhh, the pretty ones are all assholes.” Tears welled up, unstoppable. Kise rubbed them away with a sleeve, but they continued to pour down uncontrollably.

            “How long have you known this guy?” Momoi asked, handing him a tissue.

            “A month? I met him when he was paying for tampons,” Kise wiped the tears away with the tissue. Recalling the incident, he started to chuckle wetly. “He was getting them for his sister, and he was all blushy and tsundere.”

            Momoi laughed a little with him.

            “He pretends to be really cool but he’s really just tsuntsun. Really tsuntsun and pretty.”

            Pouring another shot for herself, Momoi nodded.

            One thing Kise hated about drinking with Momoi was that she literally had the highest alcohol tolerance in the world. No matter who she drank with, she was always the last one standing and coherent. And meanwhile he was babbling his head off and somewhere in between giggling and weeping (manly!) tears.

            “Do you get along with each other? Is he nice to you?” Momoi asked.

            “Yes! And mostly. Way too tsundere.”        

            “Then I fail to see why this is a problem.”

            “Nooooo,” Kise whined for the nth time that night. “It’s just, we’re so different. He’s-”

            “-in his first year of university, studying sports medicine, from an extremely distinguished family and extremely uptight upbringing.”

            “Momochiiiii, you’re no fair,” Kise grumbled. “You always do research so quickly I don’t have to tell you anything.”

            Momoi not-so-guiltily showed him the information she was looking up on her tablet. “You got me, Ki-chan.” She poked her tongue out cheekily at him.

            “I guess you aren’t Momoi _Stats_ uki for nothing.”

            “Ki-chan, shut up. Your drunk puns are bad.”

            There was a moment of silence, broken only by the soft clink of Momoi putting down her cup.

            “You’re afraid it’s going to end up like last time, aren’t you?”

            Kise raised his eyes to meet Momoi’s.

            “I am,” he whispered.

            Momoi did not say anything.

            “I don’t want to get hurt again. Last time almost killed me.” Kise smiled weakly at Momoi. “You remember, don’t you?”

            “I do, Ki-chan.” Momoi got up from her seat and reached over to Kise to hug him tightly. “I do.”

***

            Momoi was kind enough to accompany Kise back to his apartment. Kise thought that they must have made a comical sight – a short, delicate-looking pink-haired young woman supporting a sobbing, stumbling-drunk six-foot-two blond man by the shoulders and the waist.

            Kise was glad the restaurant they chose was close to home.

            Momoi deposited him unceremoniously onto the couch when they entered Kise’s flat, and proceeded to help him shrug off his jacket. She threw it over the back of one of the two chairs at the dining table on her way to the front door.

            “Take care, Ki-chan,” she called at the doorway. The door opened, her silhouette dark against the brightness of the corridor outside.

            “Momochi too, okay,” Kise groaned. Ugh, he hadn’t gotten that drunk since forever.

            The front door closed and the automatic lock clicked in the silence.

            Kise lay in the darkness for a few minutes, thinking.

            That’s the thing! He should text Midorima!

 

**To: Midorimacchi**

**From: Kise Ryouta**

**Subject: (empty)**

**Midorimacchiiiiiiiiiiiiiii**

**To: Midorimacchi**

**From: Kise Ryouta**

**Subject: (empty)**

**Midorimacchiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii~~~~~~**

**To: Midorimacchi**

**From: Kise Ryouta**

**Subject: (empty)**

**Midorimacchi have I ever told you you’re really pretty**

**To: Midorimacchi**

**From: Kise Ryouta**

**Subject: (empty)**

**Midorimacchi you always make my day brighter; your name should have been Midorima _Shine_ tarou *+*+*+*+*+*+*+***

            To Kise’s utter delight, his phone vibrated just a minute after he sent that one off.

**To: Kise**

**From: Midorima Shintarou**

**Subject: Are you drunk**

**Kise what are you doing.**

            _Making advances on you, you tsuntsun. Idiot Midorimacchi. Jesus Christ, he would never do this sober. The wonders of liquid courage._

**To: Midorimacchi**

**From: Kise Ryouta**

**Subject: tbh yes**

**I’m just joking around, c’monnnnnnnnnn.**

**To: Kise**

**From: Midorima Shintarou**

**Subject: Idiot**

**Don’t joke about those things, you fool. People may misunderstand.**

           

            Ahhhh and Kise thought he wasn’t making any progress. He wiped tears of relief from his cheeks.

**To: Midorimacchi**

**From: Kise Ryouta**

**Subject: eeehhh**

**Misunderstand what? OvO**

**To: Kise**

**From: Midorima Shintarou**

**Subject: (empty)**

**That you’re implying something.**

            _Stop being evasive, you damn cute tsundere. I want to hit on you like right now. Before I’m un-drunk._

**To: Midorimacchi**

**From: Kise Ryouta**

**Subject: what**

**Imply _what_? **

**To: Kise**

**From: Midorima Shintarou**

**Subject: (empty)**

**That you are romantically interested.**

**To: Midorimacchi**

**From: Kise Ryouta**

**Subject: Good job**

**Maybe I am ;)))) If this were an otome game, then you’re going straight down my _ryoute._**

 

            Speaking of which, last time started because they were both kind of drunk. Fuck. _Or maybe I’m not –_ he started to type, but his phone buzzed again.

 

**To: Kise**

**From: Midorima Shintarou**

**Subject: (empty)**

**Are you free Sunday morning.**

Kise gave his reply before promptly passing out on the couch.

***

            Sunday morning came both too quickly and too slowly.

            Kise was jogging down the streets at 9:03 am to the café they had scheduled to meet up at. He was already three minutes late. _Stupid! I shouldn’t have spent so much time worrying about what to wear._

            Thank god the café was just around the corner of his apartment complex.

            He spotted Midorima already seated at a table next to the window, seemingly immersed in a book. Kise entered the little café, letting the door swing shut with a little jingle of doorbells.

            Midorima looked up from his book just when Kise turned towards him.

            Their eyes met.

            A strange little thrill ran through Kise.

            He walked towards the table and sat down across Midorima, not breaking their eye contact.

            Midorima looked away first, a little bashfully, red dusting his cheeks. He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses.

            “Morning. Sorry I’m a little late.” Kise said, trying to sound smooth, but his voice cracked a little at the last syllable.

            Midorima’s eyes snapped back to meet his again. “Good morning,” he said rather solemnly. “What do you want for breakfast? I’ll pay.”

            “Ahhh Midorimacchi, you don’t have to-”

            “Shut up. I asked you ou- to come out here.”

            “Alright, alright,” Kise conceded. “Then let me pay next time, no?”

            Midorima did not say anything, but Kise noted that his ears were pink. No, he was not going to say anything about that. He studied the menu instead, resisting the urge to peek at Midorima.

            “Have you decided?”

            Kise nodded.

            Midorima waved one of the waiters over and motioned for Kise to order first.

            “I’d like a hazelnut latte and a cinnamon roll please,” he told the waiter. “And you, Midorimacchi?”

            “A red bean green tea latte and red bean bun. Please.”

            “You really do like red bean, don’t you?” Kise commented when the waiter left with their orders.

            “I suppose so,” Midorima answered. “However I cannot stand the smell of natto.”

            “It can be unpleasant,” Kise agreed. “I like onion gratin soup the most. I don't like unagi though. The first time I ate it, a bone got lodged in my throat. It was so painful!”

            “Idiot. You’re supposed to eat it slowly. You could have caused permanent damage.”

            “I guess it’s a little too late; I don’t dare eat it anymore,” Kise chuckled a little self-depreciatingly, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “I think I’m traumatised or something.”

            “Like the way I am with natto, I suppose.”

            Kise laughed, internally delighting in the little smile that pulled up the corners of Midorima’s stern mouth.

            “Are you usually busy on Sundays?” Kise asked.

            “Not particularly,” Midorima replied. “I sometimes play basketball with my old teammates, or play shogi with an old friend.” Midorima huffed. “Not like I am any match for him, being a professional player.”

            “You have this kind of connection?” Kise exhaled. “That’s pretty impressive.”

            “We met in junior high and became friends,” Midorima muttered, looking sideways. “His name is Akashi Seijuurou. Ever heard of him?”

            _Ahh. That rings a bell._ “Oh, him. One of the youngest professionals out there, right? I think I saw him in a magazine interview before.”

            Midorima nodded curtly. “He also plays basketball.”

            “Ehhh really?!” _Now_ Kise was extra impressed. “We must all be connected by basketball. Do you know Kagami Taiga? From the cash register next to mine? Tall redhead with intense eyebrows?”

            “Don’t tell me…”

            “He plays too! We sometimes have one-on-one after work. We should have a basketball party or something.”

            Midorima opened his mouth to reply, but the waiter literally materialized in front of their table. Kise almost squawked in surprise. He had not noticed the light-blue-haired man at all.

            “Here are your orders,” he said, placing two cups and their food in front of them. “I’m sorry for startling you.”

            “No, no, it’s alright,” Kise said quickly. “Um…”

            “Enjoy your food,” the waiter said, and retreated. Kise caught the characters on his nametag. _Kuroko Tetsuya, huh…_ He recalled Kagami mentioning a Kuroko a few times. _Ahh, whatever. I have a hot breakfast date, and that’s what matters right now._

            “Thank you for the meal,” Kise said, clapping his hands together.

            Midorima looked on with an amused glint in his green, green eyes, and his bandaged hand reached for his red bean green tea latte.

            Kise drank deeply from his own cup. _Damn, this is some good shit._ “The coffee here is good,” he said, smiling at Midorima.

            “I thought it is,” Midorima said. “That’s why I asked to meet up here.” He turned away, looking a little embarrassed.

            “Aww, hey, don’t be shy,” Kise said gently. “It’s honestly good. Thanks for asking me.”

            Midorima nodded, still flushed and all bashful, like a princess. _So cute!!_

            “To be honest, I’ve been thinking,” Midorima began, voice just the slightest unsteady. “I…” _I can’t do this_ was written all over Midorima’s face.

            “It’s okay. I'm listening,” Kise coaxed. “I’ll listen no matter what.”

            Midorima nodded, but he was breathing hard. His mouth was open, lips trying to move, but no sound came out. The bandaged hand released the cup and crept subtly across the table to cover Kise’s.

            They both shivered a little at the contact, but neither of them pulled away.

            The silence stretched on. The sounds of the coffee machines, the café’s other patrons and the occasional jingling of the doorbell all died to a dull roar.

            It was all the _warmth of Midorima’s hand over his_ , _Midorima’s faint pulse in his palm against the back of his hand_ , Kise’s own heartbeat loud in his ears and heavy in his chest, the warm, mixed scents of their drinks and food, and Midorima’s _cool, honest, intelligent, beautiful green,_ green _eyes_ behind his glasses framed by the prettiest lashes.

            “I have an idea what you’re going to say,” Kise breathed, holding Midorima’s gaze. He took hold of Midorima’s other hand with his unoccupied one. “Can I try to say it for both of us?”

            Midorima nodded once, eyes wide and those beautiful lips slightly parted.

            _Fuck_.

            “You really brighten my day.” Kise’s heart was in his throat. “Can we go out?”

            Midorima’s eyes looked a little wet, but his cheeks remained dry. “I’m… not very good at this kind of thing,” he began, words a little choked. “I’ll still try. I promise.” His left hand held Kise’s tighter.

            Kise mirrored his gesture. “I trust you,” he said quietly. “I… had a very unpleasant romantic relationship a while ago. It broke me.” Kise closed his eyes, recalling Haizaki Shougo’s handsome face twisted into an ugly, depreciating sneer, recalling the heartbreak that almost killed him. “But I trust you.” He opened his eyes again to stare into Midorima’s earnest eyes.

            “I –I will make sure your trust is not misplaced,” Midorima’s voice trembled. Something changed a little in his eyes. Reverence? No. _Admiration. Respect._ “I’m hard to understand. I’m not easy to socialize with. But I _will_ try.” Midorima took a breath that rattled his entire frame. “I want to know you better. I want to be the one that makes you happy.”

            “And I want to be happy with _you_ ,” Kise breathed.

            “So it shall be,” Midorima said formally, lowering his head the slightest, cheeks flaming.

            “A-ah, our food is getting cold,” Kise said, noticing that their food had been sitting there for a while.

            “Y-you’re right,” Midorima mumbled.

            They dug in, but one of each their hands remained laced with the other’s over the table.

***

            Midorima ended up cancelling on his afternoon plans and took Kise to the arcade.

            Midorima was not much of a games person, but Kise managed to persuade him to try one round of Dance Dance Revolution with him (Kise ended up beating him of course; his record was unparalleled after all). However, Midorima was exceptionally talented at crane games, coin tossing stalls and shooting games, winning Kise a gigantic cheetah plushie.

            Kise won Midorima the canned red bean soup prize purely by chance. Go figure.

            It was a fun first date, really.

            Midorima was also walked him back to his apartment late afternoon, just to make sure that he actually got home safe (not as an excuse to bed him, the gentleman). Kise actually had work at the supermarket that evening, or he would have taken up Midorima’s offer to spend the evening together as well.

            Shame.

            “Thank you for today,” Kise told Midorima as they stood inside his apartment doorway, door closed safely behind them, the plush cheetah (which Kise had affectionately named Cheetah-cchi) sitting in the couch like a gigantic cat. “It’s the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

            “M-me too,” Midorima said, all adorable awkwardness.

            They both looked down at their linked hands at the same time. They both looked up again and their eyes met as a clash of gold and green.

            Then Midorima was leaning in closer than ever – so close that Kise felt the warmth of his breath fan over his lips. Simultaneously, they closed the gap between their mouths, pressing their lips together.

            Kise soared.

            Midorima was hesitant, uncertain, yet warm and gentle.

            _He was perfect._

            Neither of them drew away or deepened the kiss, just enjoying the way their lips fit against each other’s perfectly, just as they were meant to be.

***

            Kise processed the final item in the customer’s trolley and rang up the total bill. “That would be one thousand and forty yen,” he said cheerfully, flashing them a quick smile. 

            He packed their purchases into one of the standard brown paper bags and waved goodbye as they stepped out of the supermarket.

            “I’ll be taking these,” a very familiar voice said as two cans of onion soup were placed on Kise’s counter with a quiet clatter.

            Kise looked up to meet green eyes glimmering faintly behind thick-rimmed glasses. “Midorimacchi,” he breathed, feeling a goofy smile spread across his face.

            “Ryouta,” Midorima said, voice subtly warm.

            “These be on me?” Kise asked, grinning at his boyfriend.

            “As you wish,” he mumbled, the tips of his ears turning red. “Come home soon. I’m going to heat them up and put bread in them. Then we’ll watch the junior high match you’ve been bugging me about.”

            Kise raised a teasing eyebrow at him. “Is that your way of making onion gratin soup?”

            Midorima just raised _both_ eyebrows at him noncommittally. “Your next customer is waiting. I’ll be waiting too, so come home soon, you idiot.”

            Kise stared fondly after the flapping beige coat, before he remembered that yes, he had other customers to serve.

            “You’ve got it bad,” Kagami told him from his counter when it was a little quieter.

            “Look who’s talking,” Kise smirked as Kagami pulled out his phone instantly to reply a message from the _special person_ with the _special ringtone._ Kise guessed, with much amusement, that Fate must be on his side today.

            “Shut up,” Kagami said good-naturedly.

            But Kise was not really listening anymore. He imagined Midorima at home pouring the freshly purchased onion soup into separate bowls, shoving them into the microwave and trying to figure out which buttons to press so their soups were edible. He imagined him stuffing sliced bread into the toaster and looking in the kitchen cupboards for grated cheese as a sorry substitute for gratin.

            Not that it really mattered.

            After going steady for a few months, they had moved in with each other to cut down on rent.

            _“Aren’t you going a little too fast?” Momoi had asked him when he told her they were going to move in together, but Kise shook his head and smiled. “We have faith in us.”_

            Midorima and Kise had grown closer than ever since. It had only been a couple of weeks, but they had already fallen into a comfortable pattern.

            Kise glanced at the clock and at the dark night outside the supermarket. _Thirty more minutes._

            His modeling work was going very well, in fact. He was getting more and more jobs. In fact, he was going to quit his job at the supermarket. There was no longer need for extra money, and there was certainly no need to keep himself busy and taking his mind off Haizaki Shougo.

            He had his future with Midorima Shintarou to think about, and that was pretty much enough.

           

**To: Midorimacchi**

**From: Ryouta**

**Subject: (empty)**

**Work almost over! Miss you already. Can’t wait to come home www Love you <3**

The reply was almost instantaneous.

 

**To: Ryouta**

**From: Shintarou**

**Subject: (empty)**

**Idiot. Come home soon. Love you too.**

            _Yeah,_ Kise thought to himself. _Midorima Shintarou is very much enough_.


End file.
